Mediterranean Dreams
by Scarlett's Tara
Summary: A typical day in Lesbos.
1. Chapter 1

A persistent tickling near her ear nudged her into consciousness. When ignoring it failed, Santana twitched the muscles in one side of her face, reluctant to move her heavily relaxed limbs. The motion created a poorly muffled stream of giggles coming from somewhere above her head.

With reluctance, Santana peeled open her eyes, squinting against the afternoon sunlight that poured through the open curtain and scattered across the room. She only needed to turn her head a fraction further to the side to see the loose blonde hair that she had felt against her ear. With a groan, Santana shifted more fully onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow to try and extend her nap. After a morning filled with Brittany, room service brunch, and then more Brittany she was ready to sleep late into the evening.

"Santana," Brittany whined, laughter still in her voice.

"I'm sleeping," she mumbled into the pillow.

Somehow Brittany understood. "You are?" she teased. "That means your muscles are relaxed and I can do this - " Fingers tucked under her ribs. "-and it won't tickle."

Her abdomen automatically tensed at the word 'tickle' but she still didn't react fast enough as Brittany's fingers wriggled across her sides mercilessly. Santana shrieked, her body tangling in the sheet as she tried to roll away.

"Britt! Stop it!" she screeched, on her back and pushing away Brittany's hands.

The torture continued for another few seconds before it stopped and Brittany was hovering above her on all fours, her lips too close and too tempting. Santana arched her neck upwards, but Brittany shifted a fraction of an inch backwards.

"Are you awake now?" Her warm breath washed over Santana's mouth and chin.

Instead of responding, Santana hooked her hands around the base of Brittany's skull and pulled her in close, her eyes falling closed the moment their lips brushed together. Though kissing Brittany had been frequent activity in the three days since they had left Lima, after so long without it, the sensation was still enough to send Santana spiraling, her brain rapidly attempting to categorize each nuanced moment as a reminder of why she could never again go months without this. She deepened the kiss, one hand gliding down the smooth plane of Brittany's back. However, not even Brittany's tongue massaging against her own was enough to distract her when soft skin was unexpectedly interrupted by a string of fabric.

Breaking the kiss, she asked, "What the hell is this?"

Brittany paused in adorable confusion as Santana surveyed the space between their bodies. Critical areas of pale skin were covered by a tiny string bikini, in an overly bright shade of green smattered with white flowers. It would have been hideous on anyone else, but Brittany pulled it off. That didn't stop Santana from frowning in deep displeasure.

In a serious tone, Santana reminded her, "This bed is a clothing-free zone. And you, Miss Pierce, are in clear violation."

The bikini did not evaporate from her body as Santana would have liked. Instead Brittany giggled, her smile bright as she bounced a little on her hands and knees.

"That's because we're going to the beach!" Brittany announced. She paused in consideration before adding, "Plus, I'm not really in the bed, I'm more like over the bed."

"Oh yeah?" Santana challenged, locking her arms around Brittany's waist and tugging her down. Brittany didn't resist much, and Santana easily rolled on top of her, pressing her body into the soft mattress. "Beep, beep, beep," she cried obnoxiously. "Violation. Brittany Susan Pierce in violation of ordinance 551: occupants of the bed must be fully nude at all times."

It was impossible to keep a straight face when Brittany was squirming below her and laughing in delight. She broke the act, and buried her own giggles against Brittany's neck.

"You're silly," Brittany murmured, her voice soaked with unbridled adoration.

"No, I'm just really serious about certain rules." But Santana couldn't even get through the sentence without snorting.

"I can fix that. Let's get up and go to the beach." Brittany lightly pinched her hip in encouragement.

Santana shook her head and parted her lips to taste the skin over Brittany's pulse. She dropped a series of wet kisses against her neck, stopping at an angry, dark hickey that was most certainly her doing and soothing the area gently with the tip of her tongue.

"No, no, no," Brittany protested, using both hands to pry Santana's face away. "Beach."

"I can think of much better things to do today. We don't even have to leave the room." Santana tilted her head so that she could seductively suck Brittany's index finger into her mouth.

The hesitance flickered across Brittany's face for only a moment, but years of experience made Santana quick enough to detect it. She released the finger in favor of grabbing Brittany's arm and nipping lightly at the skin on the inside of her wrist. The body beneath her visibly softened. Encouraged, Santana shifted more on top of Brittany, lifting the arm in her grip to lie on the mattress above their hands and pressing her lips into the exposed armpit. Brittany's immediately moaned audibly and it was all Santana needed to know that she had won.

In only a matter of minutes, no one in the bed was in violation of the clothing rule and Santana's lips had abandoned Brittany's armpits for a better place. Brittany thrashed above her, and Santana's line of sight could just make out her tensed abdominal muscles and heaving chest. She was close. Santana curled her hands tighter around narrow hips and angled them upwards for better access. Brittany cried out loudly when Santana suckled her clit more fully into her mouth.

Brittany's body shifted and Santana glanced up to see her propped on her elbows, her gaze fixed on the movements of Santana's mouth.

Santana pulled away enough to murmur, "I love it when you watch me."

Her only response was a grunt of protest as Brittany shoved her face back where it belonged. But the new wetness coating Santana's chin was a clear indication that Brittany also liked to watch. Very much. She circled her tongue broadly for a few strokes before focusing back in, sucking and licking until Brittany's arms could no longer hold her weight and she fell back onto the mattress only seconds before she arched up off of it with a drawn out moan.

Santana's fingers teased shapes across her hips and stomach as Brittany caught her breath, her mouth slowly pulling away from the warmth. She swiped the back of her hand across her lips and chin, and moved up to kiss Brittany.

When their lips broke apart, Brittany mumbled, "That was very bad."

Too confident to be insulted, Santana shot back, "That moaning made me think it was very, very good."

Brittany rolled her eyes a little. "Duh, that part was good. But we're supposed to be at the beach. You, like, abducted my brain."

Santana laughed. "My powers of seduction are very real. And they proved that we can have much more fun here." She rubbed her center across Brittany pelvis suggestively.

"Nope!" Brittany said, rolling out from under her and leaping from the bed with more energy than anyone should have that soon after an orgasm. "Beach time."

"What?" Santana gaped at Brittany who was causally tugging her suit back on. "What about me?"

Brittany chuckled evilly. "Should have thought of that before you started something."

"But Britt-Britt, I'm really wet," she husked.

Apparently, Brittany had bolstered some immunity and instead of a response, Santana's swimsuit was chucked across the room, falling to the floor just short of the bed.

Brittany disappeared into the bathroom, calling through the door, "Get dressed or I'm going without you."

Santana let her head fall back onto a pillow with a groan.

* * *

But Santana was really fucking whipped and so twenty minutes later she found herself loitering in the hotel lobby over the glossy pamphlets advertising castles, museums, and restaurants as Brittany spoke with the man between the front desk about how to get down to the beach. She kept her focus half on their conversation, enough so that she would have a general idea of how to get them back to the hotel afterwards in case Brittany forgot in her flighty excitement.

"Santana!" Brittany bounced over. Though Santana preferred her naked, she couldn't help but smile at how adorable she was with her suit straps peeking out beneath her navy sundress, her arms filled by their giant beach-bag, and her long hair only restrained by the pink sunglasses perched on her head. "The beach is only half a mile down the road! I know how to get there!"

"Okay." Santana gave her a soft smile and let Brittany tug her outside by the hand. She didn't let go once they were on the street, lacing their fingers together and separating only when passing cars forced them to walk single file on the edge of the narrow street.

The walk down to the beach may have only been half a mile, but it felt much farther with the steep incline that caused her flip-flops to press between her toes uncomfortably with each step. It was easy to ignore though with Brittany's grip on her hand tightening the closer they got to the water.

"I can't wait to start our exploration of Lesbos," Brittany exclaimed. "Lord Tubbington sent me a list of the top ten attractions and we are about to cross off number seven: the beaches. We have to get to all the rest before we leave!"

"Or we can stay in the room and get reacquainted," Santana suggested mildly.

"We could have done that in Ohio," Brittany countered. "This trip for us to explore the world together. There are petrified forests here and museums and castles. Real castles, Santana!"

It was literally impossible for her not to smile after that. Still, she did point out, "I'd rather explore each other."

Brittany flapped her hand in dismissal. "There'll be time for that too."

"There wasn't this afternoon," she grumbled back, her body still protesting the release she had been denied.

Blue eyes fixed her with a dark, serious stare. "Do you really think that I won't make that up to you?"

Santana's shoe caught on a crack in the sidewalk and she nearly fell flat on her face.

* * *

Up close, the water was a shade of blue was something that Santana didn't have the vocabulary to describe and only a few other tourists occupied the beach, leaving stretches of unclaimed sand. It was breathtaking and Santana could admit to herself that spending part of this trip exploring would probably be worth it.

As soon as they reached the edge of the beach, Brittany broke into a run towards the waves, jerking Santana with her by their joined hands. She stopped before the waves could wash up over their feet and stared out over the sea.

"It's so pretty," Brittany sighed, her voice filled with breathless awe.

Santana squeezed her hand in response. "Yeah it is."

The quiet moment broke when Brittany exclaimed, "I want to swim!"

Trying to let her down gently, Santana reasoned, "There's no one else in the water, Britt. It's probably really cold still."

Brittany stepped closer to the waves and stuck one foot in. "It's not that cold!"

Santana leaned down and reached out her hand, letting the wave roll in and wash over her fingertips. "Brittany!" she squealed, yanking back from the icy water. "That's fucking freezing."

"I'm going to swim," Brittany said resolutely, before curling her lips into a pout. "Won't you swim with me?"

She shook her hand vigorously back and forth. "Hell. No."

"Please?"

That face always had the ability to lessen her resolve, but Santana this time held her ground, taking both of Brittany's hand and saying, "Babe, I love you so much and I promise I will swim with you every day when we get to Hawaii, but I am not going in that water."

"Fine," Brittany grumbled.

"Let's find a spot to sit, okay? We can get our tanning on." Santana lead them to an empty patch of beach, far enough back from the water that they wouldn't need to worry about incoming tides.

Santana pulled a large towel out of their bag and spread it across the sand. Her eyes automatically stopped focusing on the task in favor of staring when Brittany striped off her dress and tossed it in the vicinity of the bag along with her sunglasses and sandals.

"I'm still going to swim," she announced.

Raising an eyebrow in doubt, Santana decided against arguing. "Whatever you want. But put on sunscreen first." She dug the bottle out of the bottle of the bag.

"I don't need it," Brittany assured her.

Santana chuckled and tugged Brittany down between her legs, pouring the lotion onto her hands and spreading it over her shoulders. "Yes you do. Remember cheer camp sophomore year? I don't want to sleep with a lobster for the next three days." She worked her hands under the straps of Brittany's suit, careful not to miss any spots.

"From what I remember, you had no complaints," Brittany giggled, taking the sunscreen to start working on her front.

"True," Santana agreed. There was never a time in her life when she had complained about sex with Brittany. It was still worth mentioning, "But it's not the same when you hit me every time I touch your back."

With two sets of hands, they completed the task quickly and Brittany turned to drop a kiss to her lips before tearing off towards the sea. Her screech carried across the relatively quiet beach as the cold water washed over her feet and ankles. Instead of turning back, she splashed further forward, squealing as each wave rolled in. Santana shook her head with affection. Brittany was the best kind of crazy.

Still watching Brittany as she splashed in the surf, Santana pulled off her own dress to reveal her bikini and settled back against the towel. It wasn't quite hot enough for a beach day, with the breeze carried in from the water, but in the sun in was warm enough to be pleasant. She tilted her head back for a moment and closed her eyes, reminding herself that this was real life. That she was vacationing in the Greek isles, the daily stressors of New York evaporated away by Brittany, her girlfriend Brittany, who had somehow become even more perfect.

The smile that had been permanently etched onto her face for days vanished for a moment when she looked back up and couldn't immediately spot Brittany. But before the panic could fully set in, Brittany emerged from under the water like a goddess, drops of water falling away from her silhouette. It took Santana's breath away.

After a couple minutes of diving in and out of the waves, Brittany waded out of the water and back towards Santana. Her arms were wrapped around her body and as she got closer, Santana could see that her teeth were visibly chattering. Pulling a towel out of the bag, Santana stood up to greet her, pushing her sunglasses onto her head so that their eyes could meet.

"Cold?" she teased.

Brittany nodded rapidly. "You look warm."

"Nu-uh," Santana said immediately, holding out the towel in front of her like a shield. "Dry off."

Brittany didn't argue as Santana wrapped the large towel around her. When her arms uncrossed from her chest to reach for the edges of the fabric, Santana could see that she was definitely cold. Though her hands continued to fuss over Brittany, rubbing down her arms and lifting her hair off of her neck to squeeze some of the water out of it, her gaze fixated on the way Brittany's left nipple was perfectly centered in one of the flowers patterned on her suit.

"Like what you see?" Brittany asked, her attempt at a sexy tone undermined by the fact that she was still shivering.

"Always," Santana responded, dropping Brittany's damp hair and letting the towel hide her hands as she curved teasing under her breasts.

Brittany trembled, but that may just have been from the cold.

"Do you want to go back to the room and take a hot shower?" Santana asked with some concern.

Brittany shook her head furiously. "It'll take me another two days to get you to leave again."

Laughing, Santana sat back down and Brittany settled beside her, their shoulders brushing together.

"Was your swim worth it?" Santana asked.

"Totally," Brittany assured her.

Santana shook her head a bit in disbelief. "I can't believe you actually put your head under."

"Santana," Brittany said seriously. "It doesn't count if you don't."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Her response was chattering teeth, and Santana looked sideways at Brittany. Her body was shaking ever so slightly, the line of her jaw tense to keep the shivers at bay. Her lips were starting to take on a blue tinge, and that was the final straw for Santana.

"Brittany," she murmured.

Blue eyes blinked at her curiously.

"Come here." She opened her arms.

"Really?" Brittany's whole face lit up.

"Yes, really," Santana confirmed. She didn't think she could bear to watch Brittany shiver any longer.

Brittany let the towel fall from around her shoulders and climbed into Santana's arms. Santana took her turn to shiver as her damp girlfriend pressed against her, but she reached for the abandoned towel, pulling it around both of them to trap the body heat. She tucked her head onto Brittany's shoulder from behind, kissing her cold cheek and breathing her in, loving the way the smell of her skin mixed so perfectly with the sand and salt water.

The sun slowly started to warm them both up and Santana waited patiently, perfectly content to stay like this forever, with Brittany in her arms, watching the waves roll up onto the sand.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: My plan for this story is to do a series of snapshots from the trip to Lesbos and probably eventually Hawaii. It's not going to be a plot-driven story because I don't think that vacation is a plot-driven event. It's more like a series of moments, of exhilaration, exhaustion, (e)dventure and that's what I want to write for these girls. Enjoy!**

Over the years, Santana had perfected her ability to understand Brittany's quirks. When Brittany did things that left others baffled like calling her cat on the phone or sorting her fruit loops by circumference, Santana always knew the explanation ("he pees on my pillow if I neglect him" and "the small ones taste better"). However, at the moment she was watching Brittany focus the lens of her giant camera on a plate drizzled with olive oil and feeling a little clueless.

"Hey, Britt?"

The shutter of the camera clicked a few times in succession before Brittany looked up. "Yeah?"

"Um, what are you doing?"

Brittany grinned, picking up the bottle of olive oil that had been set in the middle of their table and looking at it almost reverently.

"This is too amazing not to document." She set the bottle next to the plate and took another series of pictures.

"The olive oil?" Santana clarified. "It looks about the same as what they have in every other restaurant."

"Those are amazing too," Brittany assured her, her face turning serious. "Santana, do you realize that this might have come from a tree that's over a thousand years old? That's like older than Coach Sylvester and I still think she's immoral."

"Immortal," Santana interjected.

One side of Brittany's mouth quirked slightly. "That too." She continued on in the same passionate vein. "And it took over ten pounds of olive to make this bottle. The trees only make olives once per year and all their efforts get squished and squeezed away. We need to appreciate it."

"I didn't think about it that way," Santana admitted, mentally scolding herself for not connecting this photo kick with yesterday's visit to the olive oil production museum.

"You don't realize how much of a process it was to make this bottle of olive oil."

"Hey!" Santana protested. "I went to that museum too."

"And only paid attention once we got to the gift shop."

Santana scoffed. "At least I'm not the one who asked where they sold massage oil that doesn't make you smell like a salad."

"I don't think you'll be complaining when we use it." Brittany's eyes sparkled with possibility and Santana jolted when bare toes suddenly ran up the side of her calf.

Shifting in her seat, she tried to sputter out a response.

Before she could speak, Brittany handed her the bottle of olive oil. In a causal tone that glossed over the heated moment, she asked, "Can you pour this for me? I want a picture of it dripping out."

"Wanky."

But Santana obediently took the bottle, focusing on slowly pouring it out onto the plate as Brittany snapped the photos. Her concentration broke when she realized that the camera was no longer on the bottle.

"Hey!" she protested, automatically bringing a hand up in front of her face.

Brittany giggled and took another picture of her. "You looked so cute."

Santana gave her an exaggerated frown as Brittany put the camera down and thumbed through the settings for a moment before turning it to show Santana the display. There she was, in clear focus, the restaurant a blur behind her, with her forehead slightly crinkled and her lips pursed in concentration like a total dork.

"Ugh, delete that."

"No way." Brittany clutched the camera back to her chest.

Rolling her eyes, Santana was stopped from arguing further by the arrival of their food. She reached across the table for the olive oil.

Brittany's fingers brushed against the back of her hand. "You better appreciate that."

Santana paused for a moment, not breaking the connection of their skin and staring at her beautiful lunch companion.

This trip had a way of making her appreciate every damn second.

* * *

Running the straightener through her hair one last time, Santana critically assessed her appearance, deeming it acceptable and unplugged the device. She stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes falling to Brittany who was sprawled on her stomach across the bed with her laptop, the sheet only partially covering her bare back and legs. Her hair was damp but drying silky and smooth, even though she hadn't so much as brushed it after their shower.

Brittany looked up at her as she approached. "Hi! Your hair looks pretty. But I like it curly too."

Santana chuckled. "You couldn't have mentioned that before I spent half an hour straightening it?"

The humid and salty air gave her unmanageable frizz and though she had bought what the man at the airport claimed was the best transformer available, her straightener didn't get as hot here as it did at home no matter how long she let it heat up. But it was worth the effort, they were going to check out a club in a couple hours and Santana wanted to look her best.

She dropped her hotel robe to the floor and crawled across the bed to Brittany, dropping a kiss onto her bare shoulder.

"What are you up to?"

Brittany wiggled with excitement. "I'm updating our travel blog! My followers have been begging for more pictures."

For the second time that day, Santana was completely thrown. "We have a travel blog?"

"Yep!"

Brittany turned the computer so that she could see.

Across the top of the screen were the words _…Taking on the World Together: Santana and Brittany's Great Adventure. _Santana leaned over Brittany to scroll further down, the page filled with images of their days in Lesbos: the view out their window, a wave rolling onto the sand, beach selfies, their Friday night dinner date, the machinery for olive oil production. Even the mundane had been captured and somehow the photos made the tiny soaps in their hotel bathroom and a pile of pebbles on the street look magical. Though she had seen most of the pictures in the camera display window, it was completely different to see them blown up on the computer screen, selected by Brittany to represent the highlights of their trip.

The most recent entry showed a tiny blub of factoids on olive oil and the pictures Brittany had taken at lunch that day, a macro view of olive oil pouring out of the bottle, progressing to one showing Santana's arm, and finally the one that included her face. Somehow when the photo was grouped with the set, the expression on her face bothered Santana less and she didn't mind that it had been put out there for anyone to see.

"When did you do all this?" Santana asked in awe. They hadn't ever been more than a few steps apart since leaving Ohio.

Brittany shrugged. "You sleep a lot."

"Hey!" Santana swatted her shoulder affectionately, scrolling through the entries once again. "This is incredible, Brittany."

Her cheeks pinked adorably and she shrugged again. "It's just some pictures."

Santana brushed blonde hair aside to press her lips against the hot, red tip of Brittany's ear. In a low tone, she whispered, "It's more than that. You're really talented, babe."

Brittany's blush deepened.

Santana studied a picture of herself that she hadn't realized Brittany had taken. She was standing on the edge the beach, her back to the camera, the wind whipping the cotton of her dress tight against her thighs, her hair a messy dark cloud. It was perfectly framed and a glance was enough for Santana to remember the damp, salty air on her cheeks and the whip of the wind against her ears.

"You could do this professionally," she had to point out.

"Maybe," Brittany said, her tone hedging towards agreement. "But it feels more like a hobby. If anything, I'd rather take Fondue for Two to the next level. A few celebrity interviews when we get back to New York should get it national attention."

"Where will you find celebrities?" Santana asked, encouraging the idea.

Brittany gave her an incredulous look. "I won't have to find them, Santana. I already know someone with a record deal, a Broadway train wreck, and a super famous actor."

"Which actor?"

Brittany smirked. "She's naked in bed with me right now."

Santana shoved her again, her own cheeks taking their turn to heat up. "I'm not an actor."

"You so are," Brittany protested. "I saw that commercial. Pure awesome. I hope they play the clip when you win your first Oscar."

"Oh god." Santana buried her face against Brittany shoulder. "You saw that?"

Brittany's body vibrated with her giggle. "Yep. The first time it was on TV I threw spaghetti sauce all over the kitchen because I thought you were in my apartment. Hopefully the landlord doesn't see the stains on the ceiling and think I murdered someone."

That got Santana to laugh. But still, "I did it for the money, Britt. And it squashed any future acting career because now I'm the girl with a chronic yeast infection."

"It did not. Have you seen the youtube comments? Everyone thinks you're really talented. And super hot," Brittany assured her. "Please come on Fondue for Two and be my celebrity guest star." Her last sentence came out in a stumbling rush of words.

Santana smiled fondly, remembering the last time Brittany had urged her to come onto the show. So much had changed. Now it was easy for her to say, "Of course I will."

"Awesome." Brittany closed her laptop and set it on the floor, the motion dragging the sheet further off of her body. "Did you get free stuff from that commercial?"

Distractedly, Santana answered, "Yeah," even as she reached out to help the sheet fall from the curve of Brittany's ass, her hand brushing across the exposed skin.

"So if I feel any itching or burning I should come to you?"

"Britt! Gross!" Santana exclaimed, not wanting to think about yeast infections when she was ready to get it on with her girl. "But, yeah, never pay for that again. We's set fo' life."

"It happens to a lot of honeymooners, you know. All the sex, plus beaches and pools and wet swimsuits. It's just mean to vaginas," Brittany pointed out, always ready with her random facts.

"Do you really think you have one?!"

Santana didn't relax until Brittany shook her head. And then she focused on the other part of what Brittany had said.

"Honeymooners?" She raised an eyebrow.

Brittany bit her lip. "Not technically. But, you know, similar elements."

"It has been romantic," Santana agreed. "It's going to take a lot for our real one to top this trip."

"Don't worry! I have the best idea: Antarctic Cruise!"

It was hard to shut down such genuine enthusiasm, but there was no fucking way she would agree to that. "Brittany, my honeymoon requirements are you in a bikini and a stationary bed."

Brittany pouted. "But penguins."

Santana kissed her, sucking on her bottom lip, and distracting her from the thought of penguins. Their tongues met and Brittany's hands tangled into her hair.

"Don't mess up my hair," Santana mumbled, pulling her hands to her boobs instead.

Brittany's fingers easily pulled her nipples into stiff points and Santana groaned, pressing her chest forward. Brittany's palms rubbed against her nipples, and then slid down her sides to her hips, gripping tight and flipping Santana flat onto her back. The back of her head pressed into the sheets and Santana knew that it would a mussed mess of static before long. But when Brittany kissed her hard and a hand slipped between her legs, Santana lost all capacity to worry about her damn hair.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Here's another one! I'm planning on short updates every few days until I run out of ideas for this story and send the girls back home. We'll see how that goes! Also, not sure if public sex is a warning thing, but it is definitely a thing that happens in this chapter. Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/follows!**

"I totally could have taken that guy!" Santana cried as soon as Brittany had pulled her through the throng of bodies and out of the club.

"Of course you could have, honey," Brittany agreed.

Brittany lightly tugged her around the side of the building and away from the people milling around the entrance of the club. Their spot was dimly lit from the streetlights around the corner. The pulse of the bass drifting out of the club drowned out the sound of the waves that Santana knew were rolling up onto the beach only yards away.

"And that fucking bastard would have deserved it!" she continued.

"Take a breath," Brittany said calmly.

Reluctantly, she obeyed. Though advertised as an open-air club, the sweating mass of bodies and the stench of alcohol surrounding them had prevented her from even realizing they were technically outside. Away from that, the clean sea air filled her lungs and provided some clarity to her thoughts.

Regardless, the fact remained, "He groped you. That asshat bastard fucking groped you."

"He barely touched me, Santana. Like I said before, I'm pretty sure he was just trying to get through to the bar," Brittany argued.

"He full on grabbed your ass!" She pulled her hand out of Brittany's loose grip and angry paced a few strides back and forth.

Brittany tilted her head to the side, regarding her curiously. "Do you do this instead of cry now?"

Santana connected the dots without hesitation. "I'm not drunk, Britt." That was, of course, the moment she stumbled, only regaining her balance when Brittany grabbed her arm. She shook free, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "I'm not," she insisted.

Sure, she could feel the effects of the drinks she and Brittany had mixed in their room before leaving. And maybe those shots at the bar hadn't been entirely necessary to keep her buzz going. But it didn't matter. She knew what she saw in there and no one touches her girl without consequences.

"I'm going back in there to kill him."

Before she got two steps away, Brittany grabbed her around the waist.

"Let me go!" She twisted her body, dropping low and trying to duck out from underneath Brittany's arms.

But Brittany was stronger and had anticipated the move, readjusting her grip and turning to press Santana against the building, the wall further preventing any change of escape. Santana glared at her, but Brittany remained impassive to her anger.

"Brittany! He is not going to get away with this!" She squirmed, trying to push her way free, but the efforts hardly caused Brittany to budge.

"I don't think I would be a very good girlfriend if I let you go start a bar fight with a two hundred pound man," Brittany explained.

"That dickhead started it, not me."

"Really?" The dim light was enough to capture the amusement dancing in Brittany's eyes. "Because you were the one screaming at him in Spanish."

"Because he touched your ass. Your _ass_." Rage pounded through her blood at the mere thought.

"You scared him, if it makes you feel better," Brittany pointed out.

Santana softened a little. "You think?"

"Oh totally," Brittany assured her. "He wouldn't last a day in Lima Heights. He'd probably rather, what was it that you suggested, eat his own balls?"

"Yeah, not my best insult." Santana sagged against the wall a little. "Good work with the Spanish, though."

Brittany beamed. "Thanks!"

Trying one last time, she asked again, "I really can't go kill him?"

Brittany shook her head, stepping closer. But instead of restraining her against the building, her lips dropped down to Santana's ear. "You are so hot when you defend my honor like that."

She knew what Brittany doing. She was perfectly aware that Brittany was trying to distract her. And she wanted to resist, she really did. But Brittany's lips were touching her neck and she had just spent over an hour dancing pressed up against that body. It had been hours since they had last had sex. That was far, far too long. The trip had made her an addict in a 'Hello, my name is Santana Lopez and it's been four hours since my last orgasm' kind of way.

So she melted, her head falling to one side in the hope that Brittany would get the hint. As always, Brittany got it, her kisses leaving wet spots for the night air to cool.

Shuddering hard, Santana murmured, "Let's get a cab back."

"Don't wanna," Brittany breathed.

Santana tried not to let disappointment show. "Oh, do you want to dance more?" She could handle that. She could totally handle that. Grinding up on Brittany for a couple more hours without a release would be fine. Not a problem at all.

It didn't even sound convincing in her head.

"No." Brittany didn't elaborate.

Santana groaned, her frustration building as lips continued to attack her neck. "Britt, then what - " She cut off when a hand edged its way under the hem of her short dress. "Oh my god, we can't do that here."

No response came; Brittany merely splayed one hand across Santana's stomach to keep her steady against the wall, the other continuing to trek up her inner thigh. Teeth bit down in the spot where her collarbone met her shoulder.

Desperately assessing their surroundings, Santana tried to decide if they could get away with this. They were outside against a building and it was not _that_ dark. But her head was cloudy was alcohol and desire and it was starting to seem like a good idea. There were only like ten other people in the vicinity. The group further down towards the beach seemed sufficiently distracted by the joint they were indiscreetly passing around. Over to the left she could hear a couple screaming at each other and on the other side, luckily a good distance away and downwind, a girl appeared to be puking all over her companions shoes. No one seemed the least bit interested in the two girls tucked up against the wall.

Brittany's hand made it all the way between her legs, pushing up on her clit.

Santana moaned. "Fuck, okay, we are doing this here."

"Mhmm," Brittany agreed, teasing up and down the damp fabric of her panties.

Another groaned escaped, and Santana pried Brittany's face out of her neck to kiss her desperately. She forced her tongue past Brittany's lips where it was readily accepted into her mouth. She kept her hands tight against Brittany's cheeks as a reminder that she could not let them roam as she'd like in this setting.

Her legs trembled when Brittany moved fabric aside. Brittany stepped impossibly closer, her body shielding the movements of her hand.

"Britt," she moaned as a blunt nail teased back and forth on her clit. She sucked hard on Brittany's bottom lip as her hands moved down to the back of Brittany's head, curling into her hair. It took all the concentration she had left to not tug too hard.

When two fingers easily slipped inside, Santana's mouth went slack, the kiss breaking off as she gasped too loudly.

"Shh, baby. I know," Brittany whispered, kissing at the angle of her jaw.

Those long fingers didn't pull back out as Santana expected. Instead Brittany rubbed them against her front wall, alternating the pressure but keeping her constantly filled. Santana's hands flew to Brittany's hips, digging in hard in an effort not to buck her own and make their actions even more completely obvious to anyone who might be watching them.

"More," she choked out hoarsely.

Wordlessly, Brittany obeyed, her thumb hooking around the material of Santana's thong and pulling it further to the side, her palm sliding up and pressing directly against Santana's clit.

Santana gasped again. It was taking everything she had to stay quiet and relatively still. Her body was screaming at her to grind down hard against Brittany's hand, to rut her hips forward and find more friction. It killed her not to let her hands have free reign of Brittany's body and she grabbed tighter to the silky material of her dress.

Brittany knew what she needed before Santana could find words and her hand pressed hard upwards, providing more pressure. The pulse of pleasure was so unexpected that her legs buckled a little, bringing her down hard onto Brittany's hand once again. They found a rhythm, Brittany pushing up and Santana shifting imperceptibly downwards, fingers rubbing inside of her all the while.

Desperately, Santana fused their lips together, her tongue quickly finding its way into Brittany's mouth and licking at the roof of her mouth. Brittany tasted faintly of vodka and sour in the way that she always had after a particularly hard Cheerios practice when they would get their mack on in the far corner of the parking lot in the backseat of Santana's car. Her tongue moved in deeper, wanting more.

Alcohol was supposed to dull the senses, but Santana felt perfect clarity as her body responded to Brittany's touch. The hazy buzz that made it easy to disregard their surroundings did nothing to dull the sensations created by Brittany's hand as her whole body careened towards the edge.

When her lungs started screaming for air and her limbs become a mess of tingles, Santana pulled back from Brittany's mouth to rapidly suck in the cool air, her inhalations jerky and uneven. Her eyelids fluttered as Brittany provided more friction against her clit, opening again to find blue eyes staring into her own.

"Br-Britt," she stuttered, unable to break the gaze. "I'm so close."

Watching her face carefully, Brittany pulled out for the first time, gliding in hard and curling her fingers forward as her palm slammed into Santana's clit. That was all it took.

Her eyes snapped shut and her mouth fell opened as she came silently, spots dancing on her eyelids as her body remained tense for a delirious string of moments. Her muscles all relaxed at once and she was a trembling mess against Brittany, who kept her standing as her body shook a couple more times.

She didn't open her eyes again until Brittany had slipped her fingers out and readjusted Santana's hopelessly damp panties. She was once again met with that bright-eyed stare.

"Hi," Brittany murmured, her lips curling into an affectionate smile.

Santana couldn't find the necessary facial coordination to smile back. Her voice wavered as she said, "Fuck. That was –. Fuck. Fuck." She was at a loss for any other words.

Brittany's smile turned smug. "I love it when you forget how to talk." She placed a quick succession of pecks on Santana's lips.

Sighing, Santana relaxed into her warm body, releasing the death grip she still had on Brittany's dress and curling into a hug, resting her cheek on the bare skin of Brittany's shoulder.

When she started to feel coherent again, she asked, "Do you want me to…"

Brittany cut her off. "Yes. Absolutely." She paused. "But in our bed. Naked."

"Oh I see how it is," Santana shot back.

But she couldn't put too much effort into the complaint. Not when her thighs were still shaky and the feeling had yet to fully return to her toes.

Brittany tilted her head and kissed Santana's forehead. "Ready to go, baby?"

Santana nodded, but felt the loss acutely when Brittany's body peeled away from her. She laced their fingers together to compensate, leaning into Brittany's shoulder and deliberating avoiding eye contact with everyone in the vicinity as the reality of their actions started to set in. Brittany, however, sent a smirk in the direction of a couple of the pot smokers who were blatantly staring.

"Brittany!" Santana scolded, ducking her head further and yanking Brittany towards the street, praying that they hadn't been watching the whole little show. And that they were all too baked to bother telling anyone.

Brittany giggled hysterically in response. Rolling her eyes, Santana led her towards the line of cabs, set on getting them into one before they got arrested. She picked the first one available, giving the driver the name of their hotel and following Brittany into the backseat.

As they pulled away, Brittany was failing miserably as hiding her continued giggles. It was too cute and Santana had to smile back.

Brittany leaned over and poked her dimple. "That's better."

She relaxed against the seat, feeling better about the situation now that they were putting distance between them and the scene of the crime. Brittany hand brushed across her cheek and started playing with her hair.

"So tonight was fun, huh?" Brittany asked, that smirk right back in place.

Santana chuckled and whispered back, "I'm just happy we didn't get arrested." She kept her tone low so that the driver wouldn't be able to hear her.

"Santana, no one could even see anything, I promise," Brittany assured her. "Besides, don't you think it would have been worth it?"

Santana laughed again; mesmerized by the way the streetlights were reflected in Brittany's eyes, as she admitted, "Yeah. It would have totally been worth it."


	4. Chapter 4

Brittany was flirting.

Santana could tell from the other side of the room. Even with Brittany's back was to her she could recognize the body language in an instant. The coy stance, her head tilting to one side as she unnecessarily touched an arm. Santana had taught Brittany that move herself, during the summer before they had started high school. And now Brittany was pulling all the old tricks that they had both used back then to get boys to do anything they wanted. For the life of her, Santana could not figure out what Brittany could possibly want from this one.

Santana regarded her over her cup of coffee, more curious than jealous. Brittany was putting on a show because she wanted something; it was nothing like the subtle, sometimes shy way that she flirted with Santana.

Brittany's target was a boy Santana had seen around in their time at the hotel doing odd jobs in the lobby and on the grounds. He looked around 18, maybe 19, years old, and was rather scrawny and bashful. What Santana could see of his face was bright red and he was visibly flustered. She almost felt sorry for the kid.

After a few minutes of conversation, Brittany gave the boy a final pat on his arm and returned to their breakfast table, biting her lip in a way that told Santana that she had gotten exactly what she wanted.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Santana asked, raising an eyebrow when Brittany sat back down.

"He's helping me with something," Brittany responded mildly as broke off a piece of bread and threw it into her mouth.

"What kind of something?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she realized that she didn't have the slightest clue what Brittany was up to. The kid didn't seem to be in a position to score them a room upgrade or anything like that. Not being able to guess Brittany's intentions was unusual and she didn't like the feeling.

"Surprise." Brittany shrugged a shoulder. "You'll see."

"When?"

Brittany wiggled a little bit in excitement. "This afternoon, actually. Alex was really great about my request."

Santana rolled her eyes. "With the way he about jizzed his pants when you touched his arm, I'm sure _Alex_ would be more than happy to accommodate any request you have." Okay, so maybe she was a tiny bit jealous.

"Santana, don't be mean." Brittany's face crinkled in thought as she said, "Besides, that's happened before and it's really gross."

Santana had taken a sip of coffee at exactly the wrong time and when Brittany said that, she choked in shock and spit some of it out of her mouth and across the table.

"Yeah, it's kind of like that," Brittany deadpanned and Santana could feel sparkling eyes watching as she mopped up the mess with a pile of napkins.

Though she was pretty sure that she did not want to know, Santana still found herself asking, "When did that happen?"

"MIT," Brittany explained. "They made me tutor this freshman who had probably never seen a girl in real life before. He looked distressed, but I thought that was because differential equations are a confusing breed of equations. So I leaned over to help him and yeah…"

"Brittany, having you as a tutor would be a nerd's wet dream." Santana paused, looking that the girl across the table and amending, "or _anyone's_, really, but there is no way that is true a story."

"It is, unfortunately," Brittany said with such sincere resignation that Santana instantly believed her.

Santana chuckled dryly. "God I'm glad I'm a lesbian."

* * *

"Okay, so you need to wear pants and real shoes for this surprise," Brittany said, walking out of the bathroom naked aside from an almost pointless pair of panties, the clothes she had been wearing earlier balled up in her arms.

"Okay," Santana echoed, staring as Brittany bent down over her suitcase.

Her brain function returned a bit once Brittany had put on a bra and purple jeans and she reprocessed the instructions.

"What the hell are we doing?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You know I hate hiking."

"Not hiking," Brittany assured her.

"Are there animals involved?" Santana guessed.

"Nope. Just get dressed. You'll find out soon enough." Brittany pulled on a shirt and fixed her hair into a low ponytail.

Santana sighed, dragging herself over to her own suitcase to rifle through it for something to wear. Based on Brittany's cute outfit, the surprise wasn't something that would be terribly messy so Santana could probably survive.

"Will leggings work?" she asked after minute.

"Um, no, not really."

Santana sat back on her heels. "In that case, we might have a problem."

"Santana, you seriously didn't bring a single pair of pants along on this trip?" Brittany's voice was wrought with exasperation and disbelief.

"I did!" Santana said defensively. "Leggings!" She held up the aforementioned article of clothing for demonstration. Anything else had seemed like a waste of space for an island vacation where she had planned on wearing nothing at all for the majority of the time.

"Those are not real pants!" Brittany cried.

"In what way are they not real pants?" Santana protested.

Brittany didn't bother to respond to that. "So everything in your suitcase, besides that one pair of leggings, is a skirt or a dress?"

"No," Santana shot back defensively. "I also have the leggings I wore on the plane. And shirts. Shoes. Jewelry. Swimsuit." She pawed through some folded clothing, looking for more items to list.

Brittany sighed heavily. "What has New York done to the girl who used to wear overalls to school?"

Santana winced at the memory. "That was one time and we agreed to never speak of it again."

Brittany smirked. "Definitely more than one time."

"Never again!"

Brittany was still laughing to herself as she found a pair of light wash jeans in her own bag and presented them to Santana. "Wear these."

She removed the sundress she was wearing, even as she protested, "Britt, I don't think - "

Brittany cut her off. "Just put them on."

Santana obeyed, but as soon as she had them on, she said, "These don't quite fit." She made her point by hiking up the pants as they slipped too low on her hips and kicking out a foot to flap around the excess fabric at the bottoms.

"Come here." Brittany hooked her fingers into the front pocket to tug Santana over and almost pantsed her.

Affectionately, Brittany pulled the fabric back up. "I forget how tiny you are."

"Not tiny," Santana grumbled, watching as Brittany worked a belt around her hips and then proceeded to cuff the pants until her feet were visible.

"There." Brittany gave her a pat on the ass. "That should work."

Pants now adjusted, Santana went back to her suitcase and slipped into a shirt and a pair of ballet flats.

"Santana!" Brittany cried with frustration.

"What now?" She looked down at her outfit. She knew she looked hot. Brittany had no reason to complain.

"Shoes." Brittany gestured harshly at her flats.

"What's wrong with my shoes?" Santana asked defensively. "I can walk miles in these babies."

"Those are not _real _shoes," Brittany insisted.

"What the hell are 'real shoes', Brittany?" Santana was now starting to get frustrated herself and concerned about what they could possibly be doing that would have Brittany so particular about what she was wearing.

"Something without a heel." Santana held up her shoe in silent protest. Brittany continued, "That covers your entire foot."

"Didn't pack that," Santana said shortly.

"Not even surprised," Brittany muttered, turning to her own suitcase once again and holding out a pair of tan ankle boots. "Here."

They had the same size feet so sharing shoes was less of an issue than pants. Santana took the boots without further argument.

As she sunk down to the edge of the bed to put them on, she realized, "Britt, I don't have - "

A pair of socks hit her in the face before she could even finish the request.

* * *

"Why do you have such an issue with my clothing choices?" Santana wondered, continuing the argument that had started in the room as they walked towards the elevator for the mystery excursion set up by the stupid boy Brittany had flirted with that morning.

"I don't," Brittany said simply. "You always look hot."

"Britt, you threw a pair of socks At. My. Face," Santana griped.

"I already said that was an accident!" Brittany responded indigently.

"Right" she said sarcastically, stabbing the button for the elevator an excessive number of times.

"Santana, stop." Brittany's hand covered hers. "What is going on with you? And don't say socks again because not is so not the issue here."

She was saved from answering by the arrival of the elevator, but Brittany didn't let her get on it and instead took her hand and brought her into the stairwell that wrapped around the elevator shaft to give them relative privacy.

"Talk to me," Brittany insisted softly.

"Nothing is wrong. Let's go downstairs before Alex gives up on us." She couldn't keep the sneer out of her voice as she said his name.

Realization flooded Brittany's face. "That's why you're mad at me."

"Don't know you're talking about," she shot back stubbornly.

"Santana," Brittany sighed. "Don't do that."

"Okay, fine. I didn't like seeing you flirt with that dweeby kid. I don't want you to flirt with anyone who isn't me and I hate knowing that literally anyone in the world is fair game for you to be attracted to." Santana paused suddenly; she definitely had not intended to say that last part.

Brittany gave her a searching look and Santana broke eye contact, staring down at the floor. But Brittany didn't let her. She gently tilted Santana's chin up, her eyes loving and sincere as she responded, "You don't have to feel threatened because I'm a bicorn. I'm dating you. I'm in love with _you._ There is no one else in the world I would rather have, boy or girl."

Santana bit her lip. "I know." And she did. Part of her had always known that, but it was more reassuring than she had realized it would be to hear the words.

Brittany continued, "I really am sorry about this morning. I won't try to get things from people like that again."

"Thank you, babe," Santana said softly, before sighing, "But, I mean, you are damn good at it so go ahead if it's something like really awesome. Or expensive. But warn me first."

"Better yet, I'll take you with me," Brittany offered, giving her a winning smile. "We are kinda unstoppable together."

"Very true," Santana agreed, lifting to her toes for a kiss.

Brittany returned it with a gentle caress to her check. When they broke apart, she asked, "Ready for your surprise?"

* * *

They entered the lobby hand in hand.

Alex was sitting at the front desk and he noticed them right away. He stood up, saying, "I have it ready outside for you, Ms. Pierce."

"Awesome!" She bounced in excitement and dragged Santana towards the door.

When Santana saw what outside, she immediately took a step backwards. "Not happening."

"Oh, come on. It's going to be so fun," Brittany gushed, grabbing her wrist before she could escape back into the hotel.

"So fun to die?" Santana looked at the waiting moped with accusation.

Brittany scoffed. "We'll be fine. Alex is loaning it to us for the afternoon so we can explore more of the island. Isn't that so nice of him?"

Santana gave the blushing boy a sideways glance. "Um, yeah, I guess."

Before she could say anything else, Alex was giving Brittany instructions on the specifics of the moped and handing over the keys and two helmets.

"Thank you so much!" Brittany told him. "I'll be careful with it and we'll be back in a couple hours."

Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, that's very good. I'll be there." He gestured vaguely to the hotel and then scampered back inside.

Santana gave Brittany a doubtful expression. "Do you even know how to drive that thing?"

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Santana, I did motocross for six years. Give me a little credit."

She handed a helmet to Santana and shoved the other onto her head, swinging a leg over the bike and messing with a few things until the engine revved.

"Get on," Brittany instructed, holding the bike upright at it hummed between her legs.

"Oh god," Santana mumbled, but she obeyed anyways. With none of Brittany's grace, she managed to put on her helmet and get herself on the seat.

"Good. Hold onto me and don't move around too much back there until I get a feel for the balance."

When Brittany said that, Santana almost got right back off the moped. But before she could move, the bike started forward and Brittany lifted her feet off the ground, her body setting between Santana's thighs and forcing her further back on the small seat. With a squeak, Santana molded herself against Brittany to make sure her butt didn't slide off the end. When they accelerated, her body tensed in fear, her eyes squeezing shut so that she didn't have to look at the pavement passing by right under her feet.

She stayed tense with her eyes shut for the first few minutes, but after a while, when they were still alive, she started to consider opening her eyes. It seemed that Brittany did actually know what she was doing and, despite the lurch she felt in her stomach when the road curved even a tiny bit, she didn't feel like they were going to go flying into a ditch at any second. Just before she could peek, they slowed and then came to a complete stop.

That got Santana to open her eyes. They were just outside of the town they were staying in and Brittany had pulled them off the road in a wide, gravel shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Santana asked.

Brittany turned off the moped and as soon as it was quiet beneath her, Santana became aware of how shaky her legs were. Brittany got off of the bike and lifted her sunglasses, her eyes squinting in the bright afternoon as she studied Santana.

"Do you want to go back?" Brittany asked her seriously.

"We barely started," Santana pointed out.

"Yeah, but you seem terrified back there. I could feel how tense you were." Brittany gave her a soft look. "I thought that this would be a fun thing for us to do; I never wanted to make you so scared."

"I wasn't scared." She paused and amended, "Not that scared. I was…adjusting."

Brittany tilted her head in thought. "I never got to take you for a ride on my dirt bike."

Santana shook her head, secretly relived. She had seen that bike and it looked even less safe than what they were riding. Those races had also made her close her eyes, unable to handle the way her heart leapt into her throat every time Brittany took a tight corner.

"I always wanted to, you know," Brittany said sweetly. "But my dad didn't let me ride in the neighborhoods and it got too busy at my races. But I would have loved to take you. That's what gave me this idea."

The sentiment made Santana melt, and she heard herself saying, "Let's keep going."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Brittany asked. "We can turn around. It's really okay."

But Santana shrugged off the offer. "I was starting to get used to it. You're a good driver."

Brittany grinned and Santana couldn't help but kiss her.

Before they could get carried away, Brittany broke away, eyes bright with excitement. "I'm glad you want to keep going. Maybe you can even keep your eyes open this time."

"How did you know that - " She realized her inadvertent admission and corrected to say, "I didn't have my eyes closed!"

Brittany chuckled. "Sometimes you forget how well I know you."

"You never let me." Her response was lost as Brittany turned around and started the moped back up.

It was better when Santana at least knew what to expect. She felt a bit more stable, though that didn't stop her from clinging tight onto Brittany, and with her eyes opened it was clear that they were not traveling at the breakneck speed she had previously imagined. And it was admittedly a great way to see more of the island. Brittany didn't seem to have a particular route in mind, but they cruised along the coast, then inland along some random roads that managed to pop them back out near the town where they were staying. For someone who could barely read a map, Brittany had a scary good sense of direction.

Instead of going back right away, Brittany turned the opposite direction and pulled over to the side of a road, where a rocky cliff overlooked the sea. She stopped the moped and hopped off, holding it steady until Santana could climb off as well.

"This is so awesome! I wanted to stop and look," Brittany exclaimed, yanking off her helmet to revel the cutest helmet-hair, blonde strands escaping her ponytail in all directions.

"Okay," Santana agreed, taking off her own helmet and watching as Brittany scampered up a midsize boulder to get a better look at the water.

"Santana." Brittany was holding her hands out expectantly.

She obeyed, walking over the few paces and letting Brittany pull her up onto the rock. Brittany's arms immediately wrapped around her in reverse of their position on the moped. Without the breeze created from riding, it was almost uncomfortably hot with jeans, direct sunlight, and close contact, but Santana had no desire to move away. They stood in silence for a couple minutes, watching a sailboat in the distance, until Brittany started placing light kisses along her neck.

"Britt," she giggled, her body automatically softening.

"What?" Brittany mumbled, her kisses turning to more insistent sucks. "You taste good." Hands slipped under her shirt to the skin on her stomach.

Santana spun away, leaping back down to the ground before it could go further. She knew what would happen if she let Brittany get carried away.

"Hey!" Brittany pouted at her.

"That is so not going to work this time." Santana turned away and walked back over to the bike.

Brittany quickly followed. "But that ride got me all horny." She wrapped her arms back around Santana, her voice dropping as she added, "And wet."

Santana closed her eyes against the images flooding her brain. Gathering her thoughts, she turned so that Brittany would stop the subtle grinding against her ass that was sure to make relent if it continued.

"How about you find us a cute restaurant and we get an early dinner before taking the bike back?" Santana suggested. "That way we won't have to leave the room for the rest of the night."

"But I want you now," Brittany whined.

"Be patient and you can have me all night long," Santana breathed, nipping at Brittany's earlobe.

"Fine." Brittany let out an over-the-top sigh. "But it's going to be the faster dinner ever."

Santana couldn't agree more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's more - first half of this chapter inspired by My Cup by the lovely Brittany S Pierce.**

**And, I suppose it has to be said, constructive criticism is awesome and always welcome. Sarcastic, anonymous reviews are not. Please respect that this is something most authors do for fun. If you don't like something, offer guidance or find another fic. There are lots out there! **

Her eyes opened to darkness and Santana reached blindly across the sheets. When she couldn't find a warm body to snuggle up to, she frowned, but the sound of running water in the bathroom gave her an answer. So she instead fumbled in the darkness for the blankets, cold with only a sheet that was hopelessly tangled and falling halfway off of the bed from their earlier activities to cover her naked body. After a few seconds of searching, she gave up, rolling to the warm part of the bed and easily drifting back towards sleep.

She roused again at the sound of a door clicking and she watched a blurry form cast in grey shadows crossed the room.

"You're back," she mumbled pointlessly as Brittany crawled into the bed, her sleepy voice dropping most of the syllables.

"Sorry I woke you, baby," Brittany whispered, her arms opening so Santana could snuggle into her warm body. "I was thirsty and then I decided to pee."

"'Kay," Santana responded without processing.

With the arm that Santana wasn't laying on, Brittany rubbed her back, roaming slightly to stroke over her sides and hips.

"Tired," Santana murmured, knowing the implications of those wandering hands.

"You don't have to do anything," Brittany told her as her palm brushed Santana's sideboob.

"Real romantic." But snark had less impacted when delivered in sleepy mumble.

Brittany nudged her onto her back and Santana went easily, not quite sure how far this middle of the night grope-fest would go but with no desire to protest. Lips brushed across her collarbones and moved down toward her nipples. Even when she was on the verge of sleep it was enough to get her aroused.

But she had to say, "I don't wanna fall asleep on you, Britts."

Brittany licked across her breast and Santana shuddered. Despite the darkness, Santana could tell Brittany was smirking as she replied, "I highly doubt that will happen."

"Cocky."

"Umm-hmm," Brittany hummed as her teeth grazed Santana's hardened nipple. She paused for a moment, looking up at Santana and asking sincerely, "Do you want me to stop? Cause we can sleep if-"

Santana didn't bother to respond or to let Brittany finish the sentence. Instead, she arched her back and pressed her breast back up to Brittany's mouth, summoning the energy to lift an arm and tangle a guiding hand into blonde hair.

"Okay then." Brittany easily went back to the task at hand.

Santana had not been lying about the sleepiness and it was the strangest sensation to feel her body responding to Brittany's touch even as it fought off the fuzzy cloud at the edges of her consciousness. But Brittany seemed aware of the situation and she didn't mess around. A simultaneous tweak to both her nipples jerked her back to full alertness and before she could respond, Brittany dragged the tip of her tongue down her abdomen, and Santana felt her legs fall open.

Wasting no time, Brittany's mouth pressed against her. Santana sighed and arched her back. It felt good, so good. She had been wet before, but the sensation of Brittany's tongue licking over her in broad strokes released a new flood.

"There you go," Brittany whispered, her voice sounding far away, as if she were in another room, but Santana gained clarity when Brittany's tongue focused in on her clit.

She moaned softly, tightening the grip she still had on Brittany's hair, her other hand flailing until she found the loose edge of a sheet to clench in her fist. As her body adjusted and Brittany's tongue was creating a constant stream of building pleasure, instead of an unexpected jolt, Santana relaxed again. Sleep was just on the periphery on her consciousness, but now that Brittany was between her legs there was less threat that it would draw her under, and it served to keep her focused only on the sensations, everything else in the room fading to nothing.

Brittany was attentive, building her up with practiced ease, all usual teasing abandoned. Hand gripped her waist, the only thing grounding Santana in the reality that threatened to fade at any moment. Lips pursed to suck her clit and Santana lazily rolled her hips up for more. The unspoken request was filled and her muscles started to tense. A strangled sound escaped the back of her throat and a tongue flicked over her, once, twice.

Her orgasm hit her as an almost out-of-body experience, coming in waves that swept any remaining grip she had on reality out from underneath her. She floated in nothing for endless seconds, hardly aware of her body curling in on itself or her hand yanking Brittany's hair. As it ended, she sunk back into the mattress with a long sigh, every muscle in her body a dead weight.

She had a vague awareness of Brittany crawling back up her body and she pried her eyes opened to find shining eyes hovering inches from her own. She blinked, as her eyes threatened to cross instead of focus. Brittany's smile was just visible in the darkness and she brushed their lips together in a barely there kiss.

"Go back to sleep, baby," Brittany murmured.

Santana nodded, her eyes already closing again and she drifted off, wondering if the whole thing had been a dream.

* * *

The next time Santana awoke, a narrow beam of sunlight was peeking through the curtains and spreading across the floor. Brittany was tucked up against her side, still asleep if the steady puffs of warm, heavy air hitting Santana's neck were any indication.

For a little while she didn't move, enjoying the feeling of the cool morning air drifting in from the cracked window and the way each breath she took made her aware of Brittany's soft skin. When she started to get restless, she wiggled her toes, watching Brittany for a reaction. She didn't even twitch; her girlfriend was completely dead to the world.

Cautiously, Santana scooted out of Brittany's grip, smiling indulgently as Brittany rolled onto her stomach and started snoring softly. She freed the sheet that was tangled at the foot of the bed and draped it over Brittany to protect her from the slight breeze in the room.

On her way to the bathroom, Santana found a hotel robe that Brittany had dumped on the floor at some point the day before and pulled it around her body. Hardly a minute later, she was sitting down at the little table in their room and pulling out Brittany's laptop. She wanted to be the one to plan their next activity in Lesbos and that would require a bit of research.

She had multiple tabs opened and the highlights of the Greek tourist industry displayed on the screen when she heard rustling behind her. She turned, smiling at the sight of Brittany rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

"Morning babe."

Brittany grunted back a response, disappearing into the bathroom and returning a couple of minutes later to wrap a bed sheet around her body and make herself at home on Santana's lap. Santana scooted her chair back from the table to make room, and Brittany cuddled in, her head falling to Santana's shoulder. Brittany was soft and sleepy and Santana ran a hand down her spine.

"You can go back to sleep for a bit," Santana murmured. "We don't have anything going on today."

Brittany shrugged and made no move towards the bed.

Accepting that for an answer, Santana pressed a kiss just below her hairline, and then worked her arms around Brittany's body so that she could continue browsing their options. Brittany stayed snuggled close, her hands playing with the edge of Santana's robe.

A few minutes later, Brittany started to perk up a bit. She was still just as cuddly, but she moved her head enough to look at the computer screen and ask, "What are you doing?"

"Researching thing to do on this island. I don't want us to leave and find out that we missed out on something huge," Santana explained.

"But your main goal for this trip is sex," Brittany pointed out.

"That's absolutely true," Santana agreed. "I am very pro-sex. But how to you feel about sailing?"

"Sailing? Like in a boat?" Brittany clarified.

Santana gave her a quirky smile. "Yeah, like in a boat."

Brittany bounced a little in excitement, sitting up to look at the computer and shifting her weight to distribute more evenly across Santana's lap. The thigh that she had previously been sitting on screamed in relief and Santana stretched the leg as much as she could to return some of the blood flow.

"This looks so fun," Brittany exclaimed, clicking through some of the pictures on the website. "Can we go today?"

"Probably not today; we'll need reservations." Santana pointed out the bookings tab and Brittany clicked it.

"Tomorrow?" Brittany asked, hovering the mouse over the next day's date.

Santana agreed and they made the reservation together.

When it was done, Brittany spun around so she was straddling Santana, her long legs flopping over the arms of the chair. "You are awesome," she declared, kissing Santana on the nose.

"Aw, thanks, babe." Santana sneaked her hands under the sheet and ran them up smooth thighs.

Brittany giggled, but stopped as soon as Santana started rubbing her thumbs in circles at the crease of her thighs and hips. Her arms came up to circle Santana's neck, the sheet slipping down her shoulders, and their foreheads pressed together.

"Hi," Brittany breathed, brushing her lips across Santana's.

Santana deepened the kiss, tasting Brittany's fresh toothpaste. But that wouldn't stick around for long if she had any say in the matter.

"Good morning," she whispered back when they broke apart.

"Yeah it is," Brittany agreed, kissing her hard.

Santana groaned into the kiss, moving one hand from Brittany's leg to trail up the sheet still partially covering her back. When she reached bare skin, she caught the edge of the sheet and reversed her path, dragging the fabric down until it pooled around Brittany's hips. Brittany's tongue entered her mouth as Santana's finger toyed with a pink nipple, hardened from the chill in the room. The whine Brittany release reverberated in their mouths and Brittany's hands flew to Santana's robe, desperately loosening it to the extent possible and pushing it off her shoulders.

The hand on Brittany's thigh slipped closer to her heated center. The action earned Santana bucking hips and nails digging into her upper arms.

"Already?" Santana chuckled.

"Now," Brittany demanded.

Santana knew that tone and didn't hesitate to move her hand the rest of the way down, immediately entering Brittany with two fingers. She was warm and just as wet as Santana had expected. With another kiss, Santana curled her fingers until Brittany's back arched, then pulled them out and pushed back in.

The angle of her wrist wasn't quite right to get much power behind her thrusts, but Brittany solved that problem when she leaned back against the desk, gripping it tightly with both hands to get more momentum as she rocked her hips. In a moment of foresight, Santana reached out with her free hand, shutting the laptop and pushing it away from the edge of the desk. Brittany made a noise of displeasure at her distraction and Santana refocused her attention, an easy task because Brittany was so fucking hot. Her back arched to thrust her chest forwards, putting perfect breasts and straining nipples on display, and her bucking hips showed off the definition in her abdomen. Santana curled her fingers and Brittany arched further, Santana's right hand flying to her lower back to offer support.

Brittany let out a low whine as her hips slammed down once again, taking Santana's fingers to the knuckle. With a groan of her own, Santana leaned forward, biting at the soft skin of Brittany's breast before closing her lips around a nipple. She sucked desperately, but it did little to curb her own arousal, which was growing out of control as her senses were flooded with Brittany.

She switched breasts and Brittany mumbled a strangled, "More."

Not sure what kind of more Brittany wanted, she sucked a hickey alongside of a nipple, at the same time angling her hand so that Brittany's clit would meet the fleshy part of her palm of her next thrust.

Either way, it worked and Brittany gasped loudly, a new urgency in her rocking hips. With one last lick, Santana pulled back from tempting breasts to get a better view. Brittany was gripping the wood of the table so hard that her knuckles were going white and the power of her movements was causing the table to hit the wall in the steady beat and threatening to tip their chair. Santana braced her feet on the floor to add stability.

"You are so hot," Santana breathed, in awe.

Brittany's response was to hiss, "close," through clenched teeth.

Santana had already known that. It was obvious as Brittany's motions became frantic, every beat making her work harder as her inner walls tightened. Pressing her hand more firmly against Brittany's back, Santana added in a third finger without warning, slipping through wetness with no resistance and creating further stretch.

Brittany cried out, throwing her body suddenly forward. The chair tipped precariously, but Brittany didn't notice, rutting desperately against Santana's palm as Santana fought gravity for both of them. Brittany clung to her shoulders and Santana caught a brief glimpse of her face in release before their lips met in a sloppily kiss, broken by Brittany's panting gasps for air.

Easing out two digits right away, Santana brought her down with a single finger and gentle pressure against her clit. Brittany shuddered a few more times and Santana dragged her lips down the line of her jaw, sucking a kiss below her ear. When Brittany slumped against her, Santana moved her hand to her thigh, stroking the soft skin. Her other hand brushed back sweaty hair so she could kiss her forehead.

Brittany hummed with contentment. "Like I said, awesome."

Santana smiled against her hair. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Brittany told her, sitting up with a grin and a familiar glint. "Ready for me to show you?"

Santana shivered, never not surprised by Brittany's inhuman recovery times. Her robe was pushed all the way off her shoulders by eager hands and they crossed the short steps to the bed as a tangle of naked limbs. As they tumbled on the mattress, Santana had the passing thought that it was good that they had no plans for the day since she had no intention of leaving the bed anytime soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay. The good news I got really jumpy with my writing and bits and pieces of the next three chapters are done. So the next one should come faster. They are off to Hawaii! **

Santana watched in amusement as Brittany struggled to take a picture, her efforts hindered as the wind threatened to pull the most ridiculous floppy hair from her head.

"It's not funny, Santana." Brittany turned to her with a pout, letting her camera dangle by the neck strap to cling to the hat as it nearly made another escape.

"Now there I disagree." But she smiled sweetly and held out her hand as she offered, "I'll hold the hat."

"No way! You'll throw it in the ocean." She pulled the hat down more firmly over her hair.

Santana rolled her eyes. Apparently laughing at that hat one time was something that she would never live it down. "Babe, I'm not going to throw your hat in the ocean."

Shaded eyes narrowed at her from beneath the brim. "Can't be too careful."

Brittany turned back to capture the shoreline through her viewfinder, but another gust of wind came up and grabbed the hat off her head, sending it tumbling across the deck of the boat. Santana lunged, snatching it up before it did in fact end up in the water.

Brittany gave her a bright grin. "You saved it."

"Anything for you," she responded before she could censor the mushiness.

But Brittany's face brightened even further and she crossed the space between them to settle next to Santana in her spot against the mast. Santana plopped the hat back on her head, ducking underneath it to kiss a cheek, pink from too much sun that morning. Her head leaned down against Brittany's shoulder and their hands automatically found each other, twining together tightly until it was no longer obvious whose fingers were whose.

They sat in a content silence for a while, taking in the rocky cliffs they were sailing past and watching the sun cast sparkles in the water.

Their solitude was broken when one of the other tourists on the boat walked past them to take a picture. There were only four other tourists on the boat with them, a German family: parents and their two daughters who were probably close to their age and even more blonde than Brittany.

This was the youngest daughter and she gave them a wave as she walked by. Santana smiled back.

"They really freak me out," Brittany whispered in her ear.

"Why?" Santana wondered. They seemed nice enough to her, though they mostly kept to themselves.

"They were talking about us in code earlier," Brittany explained.

"That's German, Britt."

"I know that." Brittany sighed in exasperation. "They were talking about us in code in German."

Santana quirked an eyebrow. "Did you learn German in your two months in MIT?"

"My language aptitude scores are through the roof," Brittany started.

Somehow that did not surprise Santana in the least.

"But they wanted to focus on the math stuff, so no, I didn't learn German. But codes are like math and I knew when someone is using one," Brittany finished earnestly.

Santana knew better than to doubt a genius. "What do you think they were saying?"

Brittany shrugged. "Probably discussing the hotness of your boobs in the bikini." She poked the boob closest to her and gave Santana's cleavage in exaggerated leer.

"I highly doubt that. But maybe they were wishing you'd take yours out," Santana teased, slipping her free hand up Brittany's t-shirt and playing with the fabric of her suit.

"My shoulders will burn more," Brittany said with a pout.

"I know, babe." Santana stroked her stomach in sympathy. "I'll put aloe on you later."

"Hmm." Brittany bit her lip suggestively.

Santana smirked right back.

They were distracted from a staring match that was threatening to send them straight down to their cabin by one of the crew members.

"We may stop to swim if you want," he told them in a heavy accent.

"Yes!" Brittany whipped off her hat and shirt and looked about ready to jump off of the boat.

"Brittany, sunscreen," Santana remained her.

"Oh yeah," Brittany realized, dialing back some of her excitement.

Santana rolled her eyes affectionately. Really, the sunburn should be no surprise.

* * *

Santana wasn't so sure about this sleeping on a boat idea. It had seemed kind of romantic at the time, but now the tiny cabin they were sharing seemed far too claustrophobic. And was the boat really going to be swaying like this all night? She wasn't sure that she could get on board with that. She had imagined this to be like the cruise she had been on with her parents that one summer where she hadn't even felt the ship move, but apparently sailboats were a little different.

"Santana, are you freaking out?" Brittany asked, her tone teasing but her eyes assuring Santana that it would be okay if she was.

But she still voiced her natural reaction of, "No, but I think we paid enough to get better accommodations than this."

"It's a sailboat, not a cruise ship," Brittany pointed out, somehow reading her mind. "Besides, this is super cozy."

"Right." Santana eyed the bed that dominated most of the space.

Their cabin was tucked up alongside of the narrow steps leading below deck and that didn't leave much space for anything. She and Brittany stood in the tiny square footage of floor at the foot of the bed. The door to her left led to the bathroom that may have been smaller than one on an airplane and she was ninety percent sure that it flushed into the ocean, which was just, unsanitary, not to mention ew. The bed was maybe big enough to be considered a double and it spanned the entire width of the room; the ceiling so low that Santana was sure she would give herself a concussion if she sat up in the morning without thinking.

"Just come to bed," Brittany breathed in her ear.

Santana's attention immediately shifted and she turned to watch as Brittany's clothes fell off her body. When Brittany crawled onto the bed, her ass on full display, Santana could only gulp. When she turned onto her back, Santana stared, momentarily immobile at the sight of Brittany in all her perfection, legs spread enough to give Santana a teasing glimpse.

"Come to bed," Brittany repeated insistently.

Santana could only obey.

* * *

The rocking of the boat in the gentle waves might be soothing for some people, but Santana found it distracting and even the comfort of their dark nook and the warmth of her girlfriend weren't enough to ease her towards sleep. But while lying there, she was suddenly struck with an idea.

"Brittany," Santana whispered, nudging her. "Britt, wake up."

Brittany murmured something that could possibly have been English and buried her face into Santana's chest.

"Come on, baby." Santana tickled fingers down her sides.

"Hmm, what?" Brittany whined, her muscles twitching in response to Santana's touch.

"Can you wake up for me?" Santana requested sweetly, her hands still caressing soft skin.

"Yeah, okay," Brittany slurred without opening her eyes. But her hand moved and Santana jolted when long fingers suddenly worked their way between her legs.

"Brittany!" she exclaimed, louder than intended, jerking away.

"What?" Brittany blinked at her sleepily. "Isn't that why you woke me up?"

"No!" She paused, and, okay, she could understand where that idea had come from. Sheepishly, she added, "Not this time."

"Well now that we're awake…" Brittany gave her a heavy gaze, already looking more alert.

Santana caught her wandering hands. "Nope. I have another idea."

She could feel curious eyes watching as she slid out of bed. She dug in her bag for a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, and pulled them on, not even bothering with undergarments. Finding a similar outfit for Brittany, she tossed the clothes onto the bed.

"Get dressed," Santana instructed, tugging the largest blanket off of their bed.

Once Brittany was clothed, Santana took her head and guided her out of their room and up the ladder to the outer desk of the boat. It was much colder than she had expected and as soon as she emerged into the night air her nipples tightened and goosebumps sprung up on her arms. Maybe this grand plan wasn't quite as wonderful as she had imagined.

A breeze ruffled their hair and pulled in a gust of cool air from the sea. Brittany shivered. "What are we doing up here?"

Santana shrugged, rolling her eyes at her own idea. "I thought we could like stargaze or whatever, but it's fucking cold. Let's go back to bed."

"Santana." Brittany's voice was practically dripping with love. "That's so sweet."

She brushed it off. "Just an idea. But we'll freeze our asses off."

"No we won't. Wait here for a sec," Brittany instructed, disappearing back below deck.

Santana watched her go, starting for feel very silly for dragging them outside. But a glance at the sky revealed that the stars were more incredible than she had expected. They were anchored not far from shore, but the few lights that she could see were distant enough not to detract much from the night sky. And with the crew and the Germans asleep, they would be alone out here. It was a little romantic. But so damn cold.

"Here!" Brittany returned dressed in a hoodie and carrying the rest of the blankets from their bed. She handed Santana a sweater and she gratefully slipped her arms into the soft warmth.

Brittany grabbed her hand and pulled her to a flat spot on the deck near the front of the boat. They quickly made a nest of the blankets and crawled in next to each other, flat on their backs to see the sky.

"I love stars," Brittany sighed, her pinkie finding Santana's under the blankets.

"I know you do." Santana nuzzled into her shoulder.

"It's a rainy night," Brittany observed.

There was not a cloud to be seen, but Santana remembered this game. "Yep, there's the duck with his umbrella." She pointed up to a random cluster of stars.

"And the elephant in a rain slicker!" Brittany added on with excitement.

"The frog under a leaf." She turned her face from the sky for a moment to kiss the shell of Brittany's ear.

"A cat with rain boots!"

"Um." Santana drew a blank on further ideas. "The bear….in a cave?" she attempted lamely.

"That one's totally my favorite," Brittany said sweetly, rolling onto her stomach so they could see each other.

Santana's hands found the edge of her sweatshirt and, shortly after, the warm skin of her back. Brittany's nose stroked the length of her neck.

"I love you," Santana whispered, hugging her close, suddenly realizing how lucky she was. With Brittany surrounding her all day everyday it was too easy to take her new reality for granted, and she had to remind herself that months ago this had seemed like an impossibility.

Brittany kissed her throat. "I love you too. But relax; you're thinking too much."

"I'm just really happy." Her voice was hoarse with oncoming tears she hadn't even been aware of. "I never thought I'd get you back."

"You were always going to get me back," Brittany said easily. "We belong together. Besides, it wasn't even an official breakup."

Santana groaned and hid her face. "I'm so sorry I did that to you, Britt. I really suck sometimes."

"No you don't." Brittany nudged Santana out of her neck so their eyes could meet. "You don't," she said again. "I mean, yeah, it made me really sad, but we were both sad before that too. We needed a time out to learn to live apart and to find our dreams."

"We hadn't even done that," Santana pointed out.

Brittany smiled softly. "We've figured out what we don't want to do; that's just as important."

"Genius," Santana mumbled affectionately, leaning up for a quick kiss.

"Yep," Brittany giggled. "And I say that we were always going to end up together."

There was no use arguing with a genius.


	7. Chapter 7

**I wish this was a little fluffier after yesterday's fun news, but Santana is a bit of a grumpy baby. Hopefully it's cute anyways. I think this story is going to have about 3-4 chapters of Hawaii and then some sort of conclusion (original plan was them back in NY but I might be too bitter for that, we'll see. Maybe it's safer to leave them on vacation indefinitely). Thanks for reading and for the reviews. I love them! **

Though Santana could have sworn that Brittany had been bopping along to her iPod just moments ago, she was currently passed out, head flopped sideways with her ear nearly touching her shoulder and her laptop abandoned on the tray-table. With a silent snort, Santana reached over and clicked the mouse pad, the screen lighting up to display folders organized with their trip pictures most of them carefully sorted by date or location. She had intended to shut down the machine, but Santana was intrigued when she saw the one titled 'Best Part of my Trip'. Curiosity got the better of her and she clicked it opened. But what she found instantly made her slam the laptop shut.

Heart pounding, she glanced over to Brittany, but she was still asleep, oblivious to Santana's rapid movement.

Santana glanced around with a guilty expression, trying to assess if anyone else had seen the contents of that folder. She was glad that their two seats were together by the window, separated from other passengers by the narrow aisle. The people around them were mostly asleep and no one seemed to have taken any notice of Santana.

Deciding that she was safe for the moment, she pulled the computer into her lap, artfully angling the screen so she was sure it could not be seen by anyone in the row behind them. Cautiously, she opened it once again, just far enough to confirm, that, yes, she had in fact stumbled on what was probably about a hundred picture of her naked body.

She was asleep in all the photos, explaining why she didn't recall any of them being taken. Stretched across the hotel bed in Lesbos, there she was in all her glory. She looked damn hot, there was no denying that. The changes in her position and the lighting made it clear that this little project had been ongoing over several different nights. It had a bit of a creepy stalker vibe, or rather it would, if not for the way every single picture made Brittany's love for her so blatantly obvious. She wasn't sure how it was possible to express love through a picture, but as she scrolled through the folder and saw her body through Brittany's artful eye, she only felt loved. Somehow, the pictures made her feel more beautiful than words ever had.

Realizing suddenly that she should probably not be looking through such pictures on a plane full of people, Santana followed through on her original intention of powering down the laptop and slipping it into the bag sitting between Brittany's feet.

She proceeded to pull up the armrest between them and arranged the shitty airline provided pillow as best as she could behind her back before gently nudging Brittany. Brittany's nose twitched at the disturbance and she groaned, her eyelashes fluttering.

"Come here, babe," Santana whispered, tugging her close. "You're going to get a sore neck like that."

Barely awake, Brittany was easily guided into her arms, her head settling onto Santana's chest as Santana wrapped an arm around her back. Brittany sighed and in moments her body was heavy with sleep. Closing her eyes, Santana hoped that she would soon follow.

* * *

Santana was roused from half-sleep when the cabin lights turned back on and the flight attendants starting coming down the aisle to pass out what was probably a sad excuse for a muffin and watered-down coffee. Her annoyance was slighted dampened at the sight of Brittany, still asleep and now draped across Santana's lap, drooling a little onto her leggings.

When she heard the static of the overhead speaker, Santana covered Brittany's exposed ear with her hand, shielding her from the unnecessary message that they would be landing in LA in under an hour. Santana had no need to be reminded that they were not at their final destination and would need to rush through an airport to get on yet another plane. It had already been almost a full day of travel and she wished she had noticed the length of these flights before she had suggested Hawaii.

Despite Santana's best efforts, Brittany stirred, mumbling sleepily and shifting, looking uncomfortable. Santana rubbed her shoulder soothingly, but there was nothing she could do to make these plane seats into a bed. Brittany whined softly then swiped a hand over her mouth and sat up, stretching her back with a slightly dazed expression.

"We're landing soon," Santana told her, kissing her cheek where it was red and creased from sleep.

"Mmkay." Brittany blinked and rubbed sleep out of her eyes, and Santana wondered how she could possibly look so cute with her shirt a wrinkled mess and her hair falling out of its braid.

They were served their breakfast, which was pretty much as bad as Santana had expected. She picked at her biscuit, watching in amusement as Brittany finished hers in two bites. Wordlessly, Santana passed over the rest of her own.

"You sure?" Brittany checked, already bring the food up towards her mouth.

"Yeah," Santana assured her. She watched Brittany eat, pointing out, "You know I'll buy you real food at the airport, right?"

"This is good," Brittany garbled around a mouthful.

"Right." Santana took a sip of her weak coffee, trying to decide if she should choke it down or if she could wait an hour and get a proper caffeine fix at the first Starbucks she found.

Remembering something important, Santana asked, "Hey, Britt? I have kind of a weird question of you." When she saw that she had Brittany's attention, she continued. "I found some pictures on your computer…"

Brittany bit her lip in what Santana was sure was an attempt to hid a smirk, but the twinkle in her blue eyes gave her away. "That's not a question, Santana."

"But somehow I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Brittany flushed slightly. "Are you mad?"

Santana shook her head. "No, but I'm really jealous."

"Jealous?" Brittany's face crinkled in confusion; it was clear that she had not been expecting that response.

"Um, yeah. How come I don't get to have pictures like that of you?" She teasingly bumped their shoulders together.

Brittany grinned. "You can have naked pictures of me."

Santana shushed her, Brittany's voice far too loud for the particular subject that they were discussing in public.

"What?" Brittany asked innocently, her volume not reducing in the slightest. "Now you don't want pictures of me naked? Because I was going to let you take as many as you wanted. Picture that is. Of me naked. And I was considered posing for you. Naked."

Santana clapped a hand over her mouth to make her stop talking and Brittany licked her palm with an excessively wet tongue. She wrinkled her nose at the sensation, but it wasn't like Brittany's saliva particularly grossed her out so she kept her hand in place.

"Are you done?" Santana asked after a few moments.

Brittany nodded, but as soon as Santana removed her hand, she mouthed the word 'naked' one last one. Santana rolled her eyes and only felt a little guilty as she wiped her hand off on the seat. What the next passenger didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"I was just offering something I thought you wanted," Brittany said teasingly. "But I guess not."

It was probably better to ignore the teasing, but Santana couldn't help but respond with, "I never said I didn't want it."

* * *

Clearing customs was a blur, but as soon as their passports were stamped and they were welcomed back to the United States, Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and followed her nose towards the scent of sweet, sweet caffeine. Okay, technically she followed the airport map, but same thing. When the familiar green logo came into view, Santana picked up her pace, dropping Brittany's hand in favor of digging out her wallet.

"Wow, I am a little insulted right now," Brittany told her.

"Why?" Santana asked distractedly, shoving aside a few leftover Euros to find her trusty American Express.

"You're more excited about this coffee then you get for sex." Brittany gave her a teasing swat on the ass.

She didn't bother to validate that was a response. Brittany knew better than anyone that it was absolutely false. Instead she asked, "Do you want anything?"

"Nope, I'm good." Brittany relieved Santana of her massive carry-on, shouldering it alongside her own. "Go get in line before we miss our next flight, you little addict."

Santana scoffed, stepping away from Brittany to wait for her coffee, ignoring the way her body was buzzing a little like she was about to get a hit. Whatever, this was a normal reaction, despite the fact that she had managed to fall in love with the one person in the world who could pass up Starbucks.

Santana bought a scone for her anyways.

* * *

"Santana please, we're in LA," Brittany begged, bouncing in her chair as they waited at the gate to board their last flight. Direct to Maui. Thank god.

"We're at an airport," Santana pointed out dryly.

"Yeah, LAX!"

"Right, so look for some famous people and take their pictures instead," Santana suggested.

"But I'd rather have a picture with you," Brittany said sweetly, her pout threatening to make an appearance.

Santana rolled her eyes, not sure why she even bothered to argue. She should know by now that she would always give in when Brittany was this adorable and excited about photo-documenting every moment of their vacation.

"Fine." Brittany lunged towards her in excitement. Santana held up her hand. "But." She paused, waiting until she was sure Brittany was listening. "No Instagram, no Facebook, no Twitter. I do not want all your weird followers seeing me like this." She gestured at her rumpled outfit and messy hair.

"You look so cute. I'm sure they'll think so too. They always think you look cute."

Santana gave her a pointed look.

Brittany sighed. "They won't think anything because they will never see the picture."

"Exactly," Santana said firmly.

"It's still going in my Santana Scrapbook," Brittany said firmly.

"You have a…. You know what, never mind. Let's take the picture." She pulled the tie out of her hair and redid her bun in an attempt to look somewhat human.

"Score!"

Brittany wriggled close and pressed their faces together, her long arm holding out the phone. When Santana saw herself on the screen, with no makeup and exhaustion from twenty hours of travel written across her face, she tried to pull away.

"Nu-uh," Brittany said, anticipating the move and wrapping an arm around her to keep their bodies close. "You're fine. Now smile."

She defiantly did not smile, but instead pouted her lips at the camera. Brittany turned to kiss her cheek right as she took the picture.

Brittany kissed her cheek again before looking at the photo and declaring, "This is going to be my lock-screen forever."

"Seriously, Britt? We have like a million pictures from Greece that are better than that one."

Brittany shrugged. "I like this one."

Santana peaked over to see Brittany's phone, and had to admit that it was pretty cute, given the circumstances. But only because she was quite sure that it was actually impossible for the two of them to take a picture that did not to turn out. They were both hot and looked way too good together. That didn't go away when they were exhausted or drunk or making silly faces. Hell, they were even adorable in the album aptly titled, 'Santittany get higher than Lord Tubbington on Ecstasy' and Santana could still only remember flashes of that night.

"Cute, yeah?" Brittany asked.

Santana shrugged and rested her head on Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany stroked her hair and made a cooing noise. "I know you're getting grumpy, but after this flight we'll be in a tiny little beach house and you can sleep as long as you want."

"No," Santana corrected her. "After this flight we have to find our luggage, rent a car, drive across the island, and probably buy some food."

"I'll drive and you can sit in the car at the grocery store," Brittany assured her.

"No way," Santana said adamantly. "Who knows what we will be eating this week if I do that."

The giggle that came from Brittany told Santana that her instincts were correct.

"How are you so happy right now?" Santana asked, not that it was really a surprise.

"You know it's because I don't suffer from the Santana curse of inability to sleep on moving objects," Brittany said, sounding far too wise and rational.

"Ugh, I know," she groaned at the reminder. "And you actually _like_ sleeping in cars. You kinda suck sometimes."

"Wanky," Brittany responded, so perfectly timed that Santana had to smile.

Brittany grinned back and held out her arms. "Come on, I'm not a moving object and we have a while before they start boarding; you can sleep on me."

Santana eyed her lap, not sure how that would be particularly comfortable with the hard plastic chairs and merciless armrests. But cuddling with Brittany was never a bad thing and she was offering so sweetly. Unable to refuse, Santana climbed into her arms, her feet flopping over onto the seat beside them and her face tucking into Brittany's neck, finding her familiar scent even over the weird airplane smell.

"Better?" Brittany asked.

"Much," Santana sighed, relaxing and feeling like she might be able to doze for a while, despite the copious amounts of caffeine she had recently consumed.

Before she closed her eyes, something occurred to her. "Wake me up if you see any celebrities. I wants to watch you get your paparazzi on."

Because she now knew for a fact that Brittany had plenty of experience taking stalker photos.


	8. Chapter 8

Santana had never seen this version of Brittany before today. If she had, she would have found a way for them to spend every summer on a beach. To find a place where she could watch Brittany cartwheel across the sand, dance in the waves; a mess of sun, salt, and sun.

From her spot in the hammock, Santana watched as Brittany ran towards her, slowed down as her feet lost traction in the loose sand. Drops of water flung from her form with each movement, visible even in the rapidly fading light.

"Hi!" Brittany chirped, leaning in for a salty kiss and stepping away to towel off her damp body and pull on a loose tank.

"Hey gorgeous," Santana replied, holding out her arms and beckoning her close.

Brittany climbed beside her gracefully, her movements barely disrupting the hammock. Their weight brought them nearly on top of each other as the center of the netting dipped low, but Santana sighed at the closeness and the sticky dampness of salt water on Brittany's skin.

"Coming here was the best idea ever," Brittany said. "I love Hawaii."

"I can tell," Santana replied, and it was true. Though most of their first day on the island had been spent catching up on sleep, their single afternoon of playing on the beach had been more than enough for Santana to see Brittany's delight.

"I'd totally live here forever," Brittany announced.

"You're such as island child." Santana didn't even care that her voice was sappy with adoration. And she understood why Brittany would say that. Greece had been amazing, but tropical beaches had a kind of magic that couldn't be found anywhere else. Plus, they had their own little beach house. Sure it had the tiniest kitchenette Santana had ever seen and it had been a game of Tetris to get their food into the fridge, and maybe Brittany had to stand on the toilet seat for them to both be able to see the bathroom mirror at the same time, but there was a bed inside and a hammock outside and a beach right out the front door. Santana didn't need much more than that.

Brittany giggled and leaned in for a kiss.

Before Santana could deepen it, Brittany pulled away and asked, "Will you go for a sunrise run with me tomorrow?"

Santana hesitated. Sure, it was a romantic idea and she didn't want to shoot it down completely, but she was fighting both jetlag and travel fatigue. The idea of being up that early for anything besides cuddle time or sex seemed overly ambitious.

After racking her brain for a quick compromise, she suggested, "Why don't we come sit right here and watch the sunrise, then sleep for a while, and go for a run when it's time for normal people to be awake?"

Brittany gave her a teasing poke in the side before explaining, "Because, silly, we're watching the sunset from here so we're going to have to go find somewhere else to see a sunrise." She gestured towards the sun which was now hanging low over the ocean and threatening to fill the sky with color at any moment.

As usual, Brittany had presented pretty sound logic and Santana didn't have an argument.

Prodding her side again, Brittany urged, "Come on, lazy bones. It'll be so much fun."

She tried to roll her eyes, but instead a smile spread across her face. "Fine. But no guarantee that I won't be cranky when you wake me up."

"I'll be sure to make it worth your while."

The sultry tone immediately got Santana's full attention, but before she could explore the implication, Brittany sat up, rocking the hammock dangerously. Santana clung to the netting with one hand, the other clutching at Brittany's waist to ensure that if she tipped out she wouldn't be going alone.

"Fuck, Brittany. You trying to kill us?" she panted when the situation was a little less precarious and neither of them was on the ground.

"Sorry," Brittany said without much sincerity. "But look!"

Though in Santana's opinion not worth the risk of death, there was indeed a beautiful sunset and she could see how the splash of orange that reflected onto the water had captured Brittany's attention. She relaxed the grip she had on Brittany's waist and slipped her hand under the tank top to stroke at bare skin and coax Brittany back down into her arms. Brittany complied, her eyes never leaving the sky as she repositioned so that lying down wouldn't obscure the view.

"It's so pretty," Brittany sighed. "Like if a creamsicle and an orange skittle could have sex, their babies would be this color."

Santana blinked as a rather disturbing image momentarily entered her brain, but it was a surprisingly accurate description. She kissed Brittany's temple where wisps of soft hair where starting to dry.

"Beautiful," she murmured back.

They silently watched as the sun dipped into the ocean, Santana still stroking the softest hip in the world while her free hand tangled up with one of Brittany's. Even once the sun had long disappeared and the remaining color had faded from the sky, neither of them spoke. The creeping darkness magnified the splashing of the waves and Santana swore the sound of the ocean was in perfect time with the slight sway of the hammock in the breeze.

The moment was broken when Santana's stomach unexpectedly grumbled. Brittany laughed, shifting just enough to pat her stomach, bared in the bikini that she had not yet bothered to change out of.

"Hungry, baby?"

"No," Santana said defensively. It wasn't a lie; food hadn't even been on her mind. Her stomach probably was a little on the empty side, but eating was not yet an urgent need. However it was already dark and they hadn't eaten since they had woken up, granted that had been at nearly two in the afternoon. So she pointed out, "But we should make dinner soon."

Brittany hummed in agreement.

"What sounds good?" Santana asked.

"Greek food was awesome, but I could really go for some mac and cheese. Or pizza. Or grilled cheese…" Brittany trailed off her thoughts clearly on all the possible dinner options in their tiny kitchen.

"I'm sensing a theme here," Santana teased.

"Yep, deliciousness," Brittany agreed cheerfully.

"I was going to say cheese."

When Santana started to get up so they could start cooking, Brittany stopped her and said, "I don't want to move yet."

The fingers brushing over her abdomen gave Santana a hint of what Brittany might want to do instead. Santana was suddenly acutely aware that in all the chaos of travel and their excitement to play on the beach, it had been nearly three days since the last time they had done what Brittany was subtly suggesting. That was long for them in high school even before they were dating and unheard of on this trip where so far they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other for more than a few hours.

"You're not too hungry for this, are you?" Brittany asked even as her ring finger traced the edge of Santana's suit bottoms.

"God no," she responded immediately, arching up into the tickling touch on her skin. "But maybe we should go inside."

"Oh, I'll be going inside," Brittany promised, her lips attaching to Santana's collarbone.

"Wanky." The word carried none of its usual sass when it came out as a breathless pant. Santana tried not to squirm as a warm tongue delved into the hollow formed between her collarbone and her neck. She tried again to make her point. "The people next door could see us."

"It's dark," Brittany said simply, barely pausing in her ministrations.

Another possibility occurred to her, and even Brittany's tongue couldn't distract her when she argued, "What if we tip the hammock? That would really kill things for me. Or, you know, just kill me."

"I would never let you fall, Santana," Brittany said sweetly, but then instantly switched to dirty when she added, "Consider this a workup to when I fuck you on the beach."

Santana made a face at that idea. "Do you realize how gross that actually is? Sand always sticks everywhere and there are certain places where I do not want it to go. That can't be - " She was cut off when Brittany kissed her deeply and she responded automatically, her lips opening for Brittany's tongue.

Brittany pulled away and their eyes met. "Santana?"

"Yeah?" Santana responded, her abruptly ended rant the farthest thing from her mind.

"It's time to stop talking now."

With that Brittany kissed her again and Santana found herself in wholehearted agreement. She freed the arm that was partially trapped under Brittany's body so that she would have full use of both of her hands, and together, still kissing, they shifted carefully so that Santana was mostly on top and their legs could interlock.

Breaking the kiss, Santana brushed her mouth down Brittany's throat and chest, the loose neckline of her shirt easily shifting to expose her bikini top. The stroke of her hand over the pink fabric was enough to make nipples harden and Santana sucked one into her mouth. The salty spandex of the swim suit made her mouth feel dry and she released the breast for just long enough to pull down the material and return her mouth to bare skin. It still tasted a bit salty from her the time Brittany had spent in the ocean, but it was hard to care when she could feel pebbling under her tongue.

She switched sides and Brittany's back arched, her hands tangling in Santana's hair to pull her closer.

"Ugh, it feels so good when you do that. So good," Brittany babbled and Santana bit down a little in response, just hard enough to earn herself a moan.

Brittany used her grip on Santana's hair to tug her upwards for a kiss. Their lips met for a few moments before Santana was tempted by a sloping neck that was begging for her mouth. Brittany ran both her hands down Santana's bare back and squeezed her ass before her right hand slid down her hip and into the front of her swim suit.

Santana arched into the touch with a small cry, long fingers effortlessly finding her clit and working her up for a minute before sliding inside. Despite the somewhat awkward angle of her wrist, Brittany had no trouble finding a rhythm that threatened to send Santana over in minutes. She was acutely aware of how long it had been and she was already aching for release.

Working her hand down between their bodies, Santana cupped Brittany through her suit, rubbing teasingly with her palm.

"Santana," Brittany moaned.

"What do you want?" Santana breathed out against a sweaty neck, though the hips pressing up in time with the movements inside of her made it obvious what Brittany wanted.

But the verbal request for "more" made Santana surge with arousal. Touching Brittany through a layer of fabric was no longer acceptable and Santana bent her wrist to try and sneak under the fabric. But she couldn't really get her hand between their bodies and Brittany's arm was completely in her way. The movement of Brittany's fingers inside of her was highly distracting and making it even harder for Santana to solve her problem. She dipped back between warm thighs and gave a firm rub, making Brittany let out a delicious whine. Her body pulsing with an urgent need to touch, Santana tugged at the fabric against Brittany's hip.

"Off," she said simply.

Brittany nodded, lifting her hips and reaching down with her free hand to help, hardly breaking the rhythm of her fingers. Together they pulled the suit down to the level of their knees. Brittany's kicks to get it the rest of the way off sent the hammock swaying dangerously and out of the corner of her eye Santana saw the fabric go flying towards the other side of the porch. The slight concern that they might flip out onto the ground caused her to grab Brittany's shoulder for stability, but she was easily distracted from that worry when Brittany spread her legs and she finally had perfect access.

Finding the warm wetness that told her Brittany was more than ready, Santana didn't hesitate to immediately slide in with two fingers. She groaned at the sensation, suddenly much more aware of her own throbbing pleasure than she had been moments before. Something about touching Brittany at the same time always made everything more intense. Aware of how close she had managed to get without realizing it, Santana fumbled more than usual to angle her hand to put pressure on all the right places.

Brittany made a sound somewhere between a hum and a moan and it hit Santana straight between the legs. She could feel herself tightening and that told her the urgency of the situation. Her body was more than prepped for a release and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out.

"Br-Britt-tany, are you close?" As much as she had stumbled over the name, the last part of the sentence came out in a rush of words. It didn't feel like Brittany was yet, but Santana desperately hoped to be wrong, not sure how much longer she could manage to hold out.

"It's okay," Brittany murmured.

She tried to shake her head, tried to tell Brittany that she didn't want it to be okay, that she wanted to wait so that they could come together. Her free hand moved from where she gripped Brittany's shoulder, trying to move it to her wrist and silently communicate that she should slow down before it was too late. But before Santana could manage that, it _was _too late and the nudge of a thumb on her clit sent Santana careening off the edge. A moan tore out of the back of her throat and though she didn't move her fingers from inside of Brittany, she lost all semblance of a rhythm as the pulse of pleasure spiraling through her body took full priority.

Even as Brittany continued to pull tremors out of her, as soon as Santana had regained some control over her body, she said, "I wanted it to be together." She couldn't hide the disappointed pout, wishing she had kept better control.

Brittany kissed away her pout, her fingers continuing to work inside and her thumb brushing carefully over a sensitive clit. "It can be together now." The seductive whisper of her words made Santana shiver and flood with willingness to keep going.

"Okay," she agreed easily, sucking Brittany's bottom lip into her mouth and resuming the movements of her hand.

Brittany built her up again, so quickly that maybe it should have been embarrassing, but it was hard to care when they were panting into each other's mouth, their attempt to hold eye contract constantly interrupted by eyelids that couldn't be stopped from fluttering in pleasure. The low light stole most of the color from Brittany's eyes, leaving them dark and intense.

"I'm close again," she whispered after a couple minutes, though she was sure that Brittany could tell.

"Good, that's really good," Brittany groaned and Santana wasn't sure if it was a response to her words or to what her thumb was doing.

Santana could feel Brittany's release before it happened and she ground down hard on the fingers inside of her, providing herself with extra friction. Not that she particularly needed it when Brittany was arching and moaning underneath of her, her eyes wide with that slightly surprised expression she got every time. With a long sigh, Santana let herself be swallowed by her own orgasm, the sensations magnified by the knowledge the Brittany was experiencing the same thing. They sloppily continued to touch each other, eyes locking as they came back down.

Brittany recovered first and wrapped her arms and legs around Santana in a vertical hug.

"We are so good at that."

Santana laughed breathlessly at declaration, kissing the skin closest to her which happened to be the underside of Brittany's chin. "I love you."

"Mmm-hmm." Brittany squeezed her tighter. "I love you too."

"So much," Santana sighed. She didn't care that she was being mushy; not when it was so true. Not when it was the one thing in her life that she had always been sure of.

Warm lips brushed against her temple and Santana hummed with contentment. "I'm so happy we did this."

"Me too," Brittany agreed enthusiastically. "Tomorrow we can have a go on the beach."

"Not going to happen, Britt-Britt," Santana said again, resolving to stand firm on that point. She did not need her lady parts out on the beach and she'd prefer to keep Brittany's sand-free as well. "And I meant this trip."

"It's the best island-hopping sexcation I have ever been on. Let's never leave."

Santana glanced up and serious blue eyes told her that Brittany wasn't joking.

"Babe, we have to go back to real life at some point," she said gently.

"This is real life," Brittany argued. "Unless the plane took us to some alternate universe and you didn't tell me."

Santana propped herself up a bit so they could see each other. "You know what I mean, Brittany." She traced her pointer finger over frown lines that marred perfect pale skin. "We need to figure out the future and find jobs. Your genius money and my college fund won't support us forever."

"We could get jobs here! I could be a surf instructor and you could bartend at the cabana. We could buy a little house and have lots of lady babies. And you'd be in a bikini All. The. Time." Brittany's eyes glazed a little and it was clear that her fantasy was playing out in her brain with vivid detail.

"Do you even know how to surf?" Santana had to ask.

"I could learn," Brittany said nonchalantly.

Santana smiled softly. "As much as fun as it would be to spend the rest of my live as a beach bum with you, I know that I want something more. I've done the waitress/bartender deal and customer service is definitely not for me. I don't know what I want to do, but New York seems like a better place to figure it out than a tropical paradise."

"I know." Brittany pouted a little. "It was worth a shot."

Santana kissed her softly. "I thought you wanted to come to New York?"

"I do," Brittany said somewhat unconvincingly and Santana gave her a searching look. "I do want to," Brittany repeated.

"Then what's wrong?"

Brittany shrugged, making the hammock sway slightly. "I'm worried that all this is just going to seem like the most awesome dream ever. That it won't be the same once we're stressed about rent and figuring out our future and all of our friends are bugging us with their stupid drama."

"You mean it won't be the same with us?" Santana clarified.

Brittany bit her lip and nodded.

"Britt, babe," Santana murmured. "We're going to be amazing. How could we not be after this trip? We've spent so much time alone, just the two of us, and still haven't run out of things to talk about. We had to figure out how to navigate a strange city, how to not get ripped off using Euros, how to communicate with people who didn't speak English, how to travel across the world with no sleep and rude airlines. And our wardrobe variety has been reduced to a _suitcase_. Do you realize how many couple couldn't handle all of that?"

"Kurt and Blaine would have murdered each other," Brittany said with a smirk.

"Probably before the plane left the tarmac," Santana agreed. She gave Brittany a soft kiss and promised, "New York is going to be awesome."

"Once _we_ get there it will be," Brittany replied.

"And guess what? We can go to Long Island anytime we need a little island sex."

Brittany waggled her eyebrows. "I'm never going to stop needing that."


End file.
